


Blame it on the popcorn

by ravensilverwing



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Threesome - Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensilverwing/pseuds/ravensilverwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Movie night with popcorn, snark and sex.</p><p>...<br/>"Is this a problem?" Ronon was demanding now.</p><p>A deep breath, long pause.</p><p>"No." At last. Quiet. Calm. "Just unexpected. Sorry. Sorry I just..."</p><p>"Didn't expect it?" Rodney tried helping.</p><p>Nodding sounds.</p><p>"Yeah." Soft, quiet.</p><p>Then a hand sliding and...and that wasn't Ronon.</p><p>"I'd just hoped..."</p><p>Rubbing up his thigh.</p><p>"Was hoping you shared sex better than food."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on the popcorn

Part One

It was late. Atlantis was hushed, almost quiet. Voices around corners, never behind closed doors. Endless hallways with columns of water, bubbles muted. If he’d been with Sheppard they’d have changed colours. Subtle shifts from blue to green to yellow. Nothing flashy, just Atlantis showing off for John. But John wasn’t here, was off terrorising marines. Probably, hopefully, who was he kidding he had no idea where he was. Other than not here. Not with Rodney. Not talking to Rodney.

 

Not that they were fighting. No. If anything things were going quite well at the moment. No stupid, useless, waste of time missions. No equally pointless training regime. Just pure science and endless possibilities. Maybe even a new idea that was sure to win him a Nobel Prize. Eventually. When the program finally got declassified. If it ever got declassified. Annoyed sigh.

 

And there was that L word he refused to even think. He wasn’t alone so he couldn’t possibly be the L word. The L word was for places like Russia. Isolated in a lab, half freezing to death, eating cold stroganoff from a tiny restaurant, three snow covered blocks away. Which was probably rat infested and responsible for that horrible week he’d spent trapped in the bathroom unable to lift his head from the toilet bowl. That, that was the epitome of the L word.

 

“There you are.”

 

That sounded and quick glance up from his data pad, looked like Ronon.

 

“Yes. Here I am. How about that? I’m here working, saving us all from sinking into the ocean, keeping the entire city running whilst the rest of you...”flail of a hand, “Do whatever it is you do when we’re not saving the universe from winking out of existence.”

 

“Sheppard got a new movie disc.”

 

Barely an eye roll at his tirade.

 

He did not feel his heart skip a beat. He did not get excited and almost drop the precious data pad. He did walk a little faster to reach Ronon though.

 

 

“Please tell me it’s not Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? No, no please tell me it’s NOT Spiderman 3. I hear it was a complete disaster. No surprises there. I mean a...”

 

“He said something about 300.”

 

“Oh god please! You military types, don’t you get enough blood and violence in your day jobs?”

 

“Sometimes we do night missions.” Dead pan.

 

“You know what I mean! So if that’s what playing count me out. Some of us have work to do. Endless work to ensure your sorry...Yes. What?” Snapping.

 

Ronon wasn’t letting him get past. Arms crossed over his chest.

 

“What, what! Why aren’t you...”

 

No response accept smiling. Which was frightening enough as it was but...oh!

 

“Unless...” Wary. “Unless that’s not...oh...oh my God!” Breathing heavy. “The third one!” Half hope, half awe.

 

“People on a pirate ship.”

 

Rodney’s knees almost gave out. He was always so weak for the blonde ones, and sassy and smart mouthed...

 

“You coming?”

 

Ronon was already walking away. Rodney’s legs refused to keep up. He just had to remind them of Keira in a pirate outfit, smart mouth...Or maybe reminding himself was actually the problem.

 

***

 “Oh my god you really did it!”

 

“Hello to you too Rodney.”

 

Sheppard had the file paused on the opening scene. Smirking at Rodney from the couch in his quarters. Ronon was already sinking into the far corner or the couch, leaving the middle the only option.

 

“But...but you...it’s not even out yet!”

 

His voice was rapidly rising to piercing. John looked pained, making hushing motions and waving him inside. Teyla wasn’t in sight.

 

“Where?”

 

“Mainland.” Ronon answered before he could start talking again, already wrist deep in brand new caramel butter popcorn.

 

Rodney made a helpless moaning sound he refused to acknowledge.

 

“Sit.” John patted the empty seat between. “I’m starting...”

 

Rodney was in seated in record time.

 

“Now hand over the...” Reaching towards Ronon’s bowl.

 

Ronon growled, scowled and hugged the bowl against his chest.

 

“Oh for...” John held his own bowl out to Rodney.

 

Rodney tried to alleviate it from Johns hold. John  simply glared and held on. Looking aggrieved Rodney took two fist fulls and turned to the screen. He opened his mouth...

 

“No talking.” Ronon was scary when he used that voice.

 

“All comfy?” John held the remote now.

 

Rodney glanced at Ronon, thought better of speaking and simply nodded, fingers jamming sticky popcorn into his mouth.

 

“Good.”

 

The movie started.

 

***

It was obvious Ronon liked these kind of movies. Swords, violence, fighting in general. Not enough not to notice Rodney’s hand as it sneaked towards his pop corn though. It really didn’t matter, John was always there a second later, blindly pushing his bowl at Rodney in the dim light. Screen flickering over his face as he grinned. And caramel butter. What on Earth, Atlantis, anywhere. What more could he want? Well maybe...but anyway Keira in a pirate outfit. Stupid angsty boyfriend, fiancé whatever and Capt’n Jack Sparrow. Not a life sucking alien in sight.

 

Ronon’s arm was warm, creeping over his shoulder, down his side.

 

“Eat your own damn pop corn.” John’s voice lashing out into darkness.

 

All Rodney was thinking was warm and Ha! That’ll teach you not to share!

 

“Ate it all.” Quiet, hand questing some more.

 

“Well that’s just too bad then.” Drawling.

 

“You still have some left.”

 

“No thanks to you. You didn’t even share with McKay.”

 

“It tastes good.”

 

“I know.”

 

He was missing the huge angst scene for this?! Which was fine cause he wasn’t really a giant teenage girl but...Ronon’s other arm was reaching across his front now, and John was moving the pop corn bowl all the way to the other side of the couch. Where he couldn’t reach it!

 

“Oh for gods...” Slapping at Ronon’s arms. Knowing better than to push at his body. He was just too big, too strong. “Will you two stop! You’re missing the ang...I mean the movie. You’re missing the fighting and the swords and the...”

 

“Did you just say angst?” John’s dead pan drawl wasn’t even trying for deceptive.

 

“What’s angst?” Ronon’s hand had stopped moving towards the pop corn, but they were still holding...no, no surrounding. There was definitely no holding going on in darkened rooms here.

 

“Something only teenage girls worry about.” John threw a hand full of pop corn into his mouth smirking.

 

A long pause as Ronon still didn’t move. Rodney wondered if a polite ‘get off’ would give the wrong impression? Because really, getting off was the last thing, or maybe the first thing he was thinking about.

 

“Rodney’s too old to be a teenager.”

 

“There see...hang on!” Squawk of indignation. “Did you just call me a girl?!”

 

 Turning to...oh...close...and mouth, sweet warm breath, feral grin. Suddenly hard to swallow. And breathe.

 

“Sheppard called you a girl. I just said you weren’t a teenager.”

 

“Yes yes very...” Gulping cause warm and close and he was so, so not thinking about lips and kissing and... “Very funny now could you...yes...” Because Ronon was slowly leaning back. “Now can we just...”

 

Then bristles, rough around his mouth, mouth which was...oh...oh god...gasp. Tongue, soft pressure, pushing inside, sliding out, probing deeper on the next run. Lips moving, warm and caramel butter slick. Moaning and loud. Flailing hands finding shoulders. Pulling closer, pushing away, he didn’t know which just Oh God! Tongue roaming like it owned the place, sliding across his. Kissing hungry...oh god, oh god, oh...hand digging into his neck, holding, pulling him in. Mouth hard, kiss gone feral and possessive. Then gone. Suddenly gone.

 

“What the hell!” John was frozen behind him. And he was panting, clinging to Ronon’s shirt.

 

“What the hell was that?!”

 

“Tastes like popped corn.” Ronon sounded so sure, satisfied.

 

Gasping sounds. Oh. That was him.

 

“Well if you wanted it that badly!” Snarling now.

 

“Is this a problem?” Low, suddenly dangerous.

 

“No.” A breath. “No. I just...I mean seriously...what the hell?”

 

“Is this a problem?” Ronon was demanding now.

 

A deep breath, long pause.

 

“No.” At last. Quiet. Calm. “Just unexpected. Sorry. Sorry I just...”

 

“Didn’t expect it?” Rodney tried helping.

 

Nodding sounds.

 

“Yeah.” Soft, quiet.

 

Then a hand sliding and...and that wasn’t Ronon.

 

“I’d just hoped...”

 

Rubbing up his thigh.

 

“Was hoping you shared sex better than food.”

 

Soft growl as Rodney started to moan. John’s hand having moved a little further up his thigh, heading straight for his cock.

 

 

Ronon surged forward and suddenly Rodney was trapped. Between a much, much closer John and heavy warm and hard Ronon who was grabbing, forcing Rodney’s head back onto John’s shoulder as he kissed John. Fierce, hot, hard and John’s hand faltered, distracted then finally went back to work groping. Rubbing, stroking, sliding inside his pants, pulling his cock out. Rodney arched, groaning, clearly losing his mind because Ronon...Ronon and John...and John had found a rhythm. Slow up, rub the head, fast down. Making Rodney buck, moan, gasp. Then Ronon started to help. Warm, huge hand stroking down. Starting with his chest. One hand splayed could touch both nipples which were pointed, sensitive...while John had stopped to play with his balls. Gently rubbing, softly stroking around down further...moan.

 

“What...what are you?”

 

Gasping then lips, bristles again but warm, slick lips and tongue teasing, tasting. Moaning right into him. Hot breath. Huge finger rolling over a hard nipple, making him whimper, forget to care about why and...slick skin. Ronon...Ronon’s cock out. Rubbing against his, rocking.

 

“Yeah, just like that.” John’s voice, hoarse hot whisper inside his ear, gripping them together. Low growl that went straight to his own cock. Which was...groaning.  The how was starting to become an issue. But Ronon just kept kissing, fierce little battles while he rocked, rubbed. And then his hand was gone, making John gasp, hot and heady right into Rodney’s ear.

 

“God yeah. Fuck Ronon. Just like that, right there. Fuck!” Hissing out hot little moans and words.

 

John was rocking too now, right up against Rodney. And when had that happened? John’s cock out and right up against his lower back.

 

His mouth broke free, gasping for air. Ronon didn’t seem to mind, just set to attacking John’s mouth. Still rocking, still rubbing. Hands busy now, just John’s hand. Faster, stroking, definitely faster. Ronon was moaning, making half growl sounds.

 

“Like this Rodney, like..”

 

“No talking.”

 

And Ronon was at his mouth again, abusing his lips with teeth and tongue, his hips grinding closer. So, so...he was getting closer, closer to...

 

“I know you like it...know you’re enjoying this.”

 

Sneaky hand back and tightening, feeling Ronon’s hand speed up on John’s cock, making him gasp, moan into Rodney’s ear again.

 

“God so hot, gonna...soon...” Another moan. “Really, really...soon.” Hot whine. “Fuck Ronon! Please, Jesus just...fuck, fuck...yes...yes...”

 

And Rodney felt it. Hot and wet, sliding over his back, seconds before Ronon started grinding in earnest, making his own cock jump, throb, pulse then spill. Ronon’s contribution splashing over his skin too. Hot, wet. And oh god. He was such a mess.

 

 

 

***

John’s hand was lazily sliding through it all, stroking over his sensitive skin, softening cock.

 

“Did we do it right?” Ronon sounded so unsure, so far away, leaning over Rodney, barely visible in the half light.

 

Rodney wanted to and suddenly realized he could. Reaching up and touching his shoulder, looking for skin. Finding dreads, pulling gently till lips, finally warmth, connection in the dark. Kissing soft, wanting to...he wanted to say something, anything.

 

“Perfect.” As Ronon slowly pulled away, lower body collapsing, weight warm.

 

John’s hips twitched against his back and he couldn’t help but look, head falling back and Hot. Hard kiss, teeth, tongue, soft bite then flash. A tease of tongue. Lips, gasp groan. He tasted different. Still like caramel butter but...John. Tasted like John. Mouth slowing, easing off. Slower. Lazy. Till he finally pulled back.

 

“That’s perfect.” Slightly breathless.

 

“Well aren’t we conceited.”

 

Hand slapping his shoulder.

 

“You’re an ass Rodney.” Snarking.

 

“Can we go to bed now?” Ronon was still unsure.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes.”

 

 John snorted.

 

“Good thing we’re all guys.”

 

“I could go again.” Ronon didn’t sound so unsure now.

 

“Show off.” John was grousing.

 

“Maybe we should put the old man to bed.” Rodney smirked.

 

John protested.

 

“You couldn’t go again either.” Ronon added.

 

“Get off me!” Rodney was pushing, muttering “Traitor!”

 

Ronon stretched.

 

“Well I am younger.”

 

John and Rodney glared.

 

“Just saying.”

 

“Do you want the couch?”John snarked.

 

“You know what I want.” Suddenly serious.

 

“And...” Rodney’s mouth was suddenly dry. “That would be?”

 

“Both of you. Together. With me.”

 

Rodney tried to breathe. Failed.

 

“Don’t over think it Rodney.” John sounded calm. “Just go with it. I want the same things. The two of you. Together. I suspect you want the same thing, or you would have left a long time ago.”

 

Breathe. Just breathe. Long silence.

 

“I’ll leave.” Ronon sounded...sad, lost, unsure again, disappointed.

 

“Don’t...I...I do...want this...and us...two...three...oh god...”

 

“Don’t freak out now Rodney. Just...just go with it. It was good right? You liked it yeah?”

 

“It was hot! Who wouldn’t want you two?”

 

Ronon was suddenly close enough to touch again, heat radiating. What was he? A heater set to roast me?

 

“So you want us? Together?”

 

A gulp.

 

“Yes. Yes I believe I already said that!” Snapping.

 

“No. You didn’t. But you have now.” John was sliding in behind him. “So I think it’s time for bed.”

 

His hands sliding around Rodney’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder. Ronon’s hands smoothed down his arms.

 

“Yes bed...” Suddenly nervous.

 

“It’s alright Rodney, I won’t let the oh so young man molest you.”

 

“Me?” And Ronon actually sounded innocent. A long pause then, “I don’t have to stay, I can...”

 

“Ronon I was kidding. I want you here, Rodney wants you here. We want you here. Get in the damn bed!” Impatient.

 

“You’re really good at this emotional stuff.” Rodney was mocking him.

 

“Oh shut up! You can get into the bed too.”

 

“Giving orders already. Let me guess where this is going.” Pulling away.

 

“Rodney.” Exasperated. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...”

 

“What?” Facing him now, arms folded across his chest. “What exactly? You just need to be in charge cause you’re a Lieutenant Colonel?”

 

“No. Rodney come on. That isn’t what this is.”

 

Rodney’s feet got wider apart and Ronon read all the signs of a fight brewing. He guessed this was why they hadn’t gotten even this far before, because they spent a lot of time snarking, ie flirting and touching, even if it was subtle and within their narrow social rules.

 

“Can we fight later?” Calm.

 

He really wanted to touch Rodney, make him calm down, make him realise John was just having his own style of freak out. John...John he just wanted to bend over the bed and fuck. He had a feeling it was the only way he’d understand that he was serious. He wanted them both and was willing to give John whatever he needed, even if he wouldn’t ask for it.

 

They both blinked at him.

 

“Can we sleep now?” Hopeful.

 

“I don’t see why not.”

 

“Except the beds too small.” John’s voice was so quiet.

 

They all stopped to stare at John’s single bed. Barely big enough to fit a full grown man. Single man. Let alone three. Especially when one of them was Ronon and larger than the other two.

 

“Don’t you ever read your email!” Rodney stalked towards the bed, knelt and started pulling levers, pushing hard knobs. The bed got bigger. But only big enough for two.

 

“That’s...pretty cool Rodney, but it’s still...you know.” Small hand gestures. “And...” He gestured at Ronon.

 

“So we get another bed!” Rodney looked triumphant.

 

“But...”

 

“There’s one across the hall.” Ronon offered.

 

“What? Why?”

 

Ronon shrugged.

 

“Moved three weeks ago.”

 

“And you would notice why?”

 

“I was thinking of moving in.”

 

John blinked. Rodney stared, paused.

 

“So we steal the bed?” Hopeful.

 

“Well I...don’t see why not.”

 

“I’ll get some tools, you two get the bed.”

 

Then he was out the door.

 

John watched him go...and hoped no one noticed the suspect stains all over his shirt. He groaned.

 

“Do you want the other bed?” Ronon was watching him closely.

 

He nodded.

 

“Yeah. I...I do.” Pause whilst he watched Ronon. “Do you think it’ll fit?”

 

“We could find out.” Neutral.

 

“I want to find out Ronon. I do...I just...” Biting his lip, thinking.

 

“You two think too much. Help me get the bed.”

 

And he strolled out the door. John would either help or he wouldn’t. That was up to him.

 

 

Part Two.

 

 

They got the frame into place next to the original bed. Turned out John had plenty of space. Wasn’t really that much in his room except for the couch and the larger than standard computer screen.

 

When Rodney got back there were two beds, with mattress’s side by side and extended. He blatantly ignored the fact John’s computer was on and email open. No need to rub salt and all that. Then he noticed Ronon. A few moments later he registered John. Both wearing...a lot less...much less than the last time he’d been...

 

Ronon was tanned, obviously naturally golden as it covered his entire upper body, firm chest, ridiculous stomach, cute dip of belly button and he absolutely refused to admit he just thought Ronon’s belly button was cute. He tried the mental equivalent of covering his mouth with his hand but his brain kept thinking it on repeat. Belly button cute. Belly button cute.

 

He wrenched his eyes away only to discover his hips and thighs were tanned golden as well, and his cock, dear god...he closed his eyes. Then instantly opened them again, whimpering. Thank god he wasn’t a blushing virgin, except oh god he was! At least with...with...it swung slightly as it...he...another whimper.

 

Gentle fingers brought his chin up till he was staring Ronon in the face, instead of...gasp. He was in too deep, too fast and Ronon was...was...oh. Lips, careful tongue. Kissing, just kissing, slow and lazy and warm and he could do this. This...this he could do all day. Except he had to breathe, and eat, and work and...hand sliding around his neck and his own hands just...Moan. Skin. So much skin. All warm and soft and firm muscle and... He didn’t look like this with his clothes off!

 

Pulling away to search for John, who was crouched by the bed, taping, tying, roping the two frames together. Pale but still darker than Rodney’s ghostly white. Barely any ass but, but...Rodney was staring. But he couldn’t help it! It wasn’t his fault if they persisted in flaunting around stark naked! And that ass...tight, so firm. His own ass was a lot larger and, and, and not even close to firm!

 

Then John was standing, admiring his handy work while Rodney admired the thin waist, narrow hips and elegant back. He was never, never ever going to look like that!

 

Ronon’s hand was gently rubbing his shoulder. Which was tensing alarmingly under his hands. John finally turned, mouth hanging open for a moment before he half smiled. He’d been around Rodney for too long Ronon decided, because he was pretty sure John hadn’t smiled like that a year ago.

 

“I thought you said you wouldn’t start without me.” Pouting and gliding closer, all lethal panther. Thighs, chest, stomach tight, trim.

 

Rodney whimpered. He was screwed, so very, very screwed. Or maybe he would be. He moaned, helpless to stop this.

 

“It looks like you’ve started without me.” Lazy smile. “But I guess that just means it’s my turn now.”

 

Ronon actually growled, hands tightening on Rodney convulsively. John froze, eyes guarded. Rodney’s mouth went dry.

 

“Or maybe not.”

 

“Sorry.” Ronon sounded husky, his hands loosening on Rodney, softly stroking instead. “Bad habit.”

 

“Are you sure you want to share?” Suddenly serious. “Because you don’t have to. I can leave. We can do this another time. Or not at all.”

 

But John looked unhappy...hiding behind a lazy, sexy smile but still unhappy.

 

“And what about what I want?” Rodney was demanding.

 

“I said I’m sorry.” Ronon sounded frustrated. “I’ve just...it’s been awhile.” Looking away.

 

“Hello! I’m talking now. And I want to know where what I want fits into this?”

 

“We just need a moment Rodney.” John tried for placating.

 

“No we don’t.” Ronon’s voice was flat, emotionless. “I said I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

 

“And what if I...”

 

“Be quiet Rodney. Just...just for one minute.” Short and sharp, John’s eyes pleading with Rodney to understand, to just keep his mouth shut, his ego quiet while...while Ronon and John...

 

“Seven Years! You haven’t done this in seven years!”Rodney suddenly staring at Ronon in horror.

 

John groaned. God bless Rodney the emotional steam roller.

 

“Didn’t have a choice.” Closing down right before John’s eyes, and he’d worked so hard to get him to open up.

 

“That’s...” Rodney awkwardly patting then stroking his arm. “And I thought five years was bad!”

 

Ronon blinked, obviously confused.

 

“Why wouldn’t you...?”

 

“Have you seen me? Or heard me? I mean, I know I’m a handsome man, no one’s denying that fact but against you two? And with my mouth...I mean...you have heard me talk right? It’s not like I mean to insult people but sometimes they’re just so stupid and...”

 

Ronon was stroking Rodney’s back, large hand warm and kneading in all the right places.

 

“Are you going to get naked now?” Ronon looked hopeful.

 

“What?” Because his thoughts were still running off in an entirely different direction. “Oh...no...I just thought I’d...”

 

“Get naked. With us. Now.” John helped, gliding slowly closer. And this time Ronon didn’t growl or even pull Rodney closer, away from John. Just watched John get closer and grinned at him, because naked John meant help getting Rodney similarly naked.

 

“I really don’t think that’s a good i...” Rodney protested

 

And then his shirt was gone.

 

“Hey! Hey that was...wait!” Breathless.

 

“What for?” Ronon seemed genuinely puzzled that Rodney was flailing open hands at his fingers, which were undoing Rodney’s pants.

 

“For...for...”

 

“You to freak out about how buff we are and you aren’t? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve already covered that.” John offered.

 

Rodney flushed bright red.

 

“I like your ass. I want to see it.” Ronon was groping down the back of his open pants, warm hands large and caressing.

 

Half whimper, half moan this time.

 

“See Rodney, Ronon wants to see your ass and really, I don’t think you should deny the man who’s already waited seven years for sex.”

 

John was completely, inappropriately smug Rodney decided before he couldn’t stop the sounds bubbling out of his mouth. It was more whine than whimper this time.

 

Ronon pressed his advantage, licking, nipping kisses over and down Rodney’s throat.

 

“It’ll be good. I promise.” Hot words breathing into his skin.

 

“No fair!” But he couldn’t find a place to start an argument because hot and oh god and Hot. And sex! Maybe, hopefully. His cock twitched. Traitor.

 

One finger was sliding up and down between his ass cheeks, rubbing, as Ronon rocked. Desperate whimper.

 

“Just let him get you naked Rodney, just let him do it.” John’s voice to his left, seductive, taunting, daring.

 

“Oh god! Alright. Yes. Yes, I’ll do it.” Caving in.

 

Ronon bit down on his shoulder and Rodney’s cock gave a valiant attempt at coming again. Suddenly hard and throbbing and Jesus, god, still so sensitive. Ronon froze, shuddered, gripped both ass cheeks in his hands and groaned.

 

“You liked that?” Barely a whisper. The answer was obvious.

 

Rodney licked his lips, merely hanging in Ronon’s grasp, against him...and Ronon really was huge and younger because he was hard already. Asshole.

 

“Yes, yes I uh...like a little...” Babbling.

 

Teeth dragged over his other shoulder.

 

Groaning, mewling. It wasn’t fair. It totally, utterly wasn’t fair that there were two of them!

 

“I think we should get on the bed.” John sounded hoarse, too damn sexy.

 

“Is it ready?” Ronon sounded...almost reasonable, mostly hot and horny and hanging on by a thread.

 

“It’s ready. It’ll hold.” Straight to the point.

 

Rodney mewled again.

 

“First Rodney needs to get naked.” And Ronon’s hands were pushing down his pants and boxers whilst John was...John was...mouth breathing, too close, so close. Cheating! He was so...oh so...oh...oh so...teasing, licking between cheeks, making Rodney groan, moan, shift his legs apart further. Even as John’s hands were pulling off his shoes and socks. The last of his clothes suddenly gone.

 

Rodney panting, moaning helplessly against Ronon’s mouth.

 

“Is this...” Hand stroking his back softly. “Is this alright?” Genuinely concerned.

 

“Good, good...it’s...” Groaning as John pulled his ass cheeks wide apart and dove right in.

 

“Good?” Making sure he understood Rodney.

 

Helpless nodding, rubbing his forehead against Ronon’s naked skin.

 

“So good.” Moaning.

 

“John?” Edge of heat, jealousy.

 

One last lick, probe and he was standing, pressing his body against Rodney’s back. Lust, pupils wide and large. Ronon was getting pissed by that self satisfied look.

 

“Bed.” Growling, man handling Rodney till he was face down, legs spread and Ronon’s mouth...Ronon’s...mouth...Hands spreading, holding, touching, rubbing. And Rodney could only moan, half hump the bed and hold on for dear life. Because Ronon’s mouth, his lips and tongue, even the damn beard, made John feel like an amateur.

 

It went on and on, only to be stopped suddenly, replaced by Ronon’s open mouthed kisses and small bites against his skin, lower back, upwards till he reached Rodney’s shoulders. Sliding closer, cock sliding where he was now wet, spit slick. Mouth hot and panting over damp skin, cock rocking, arms tight, holding, thighs spreading, pushing Rodney’s further apart.

 

“Ronon stop.” John sounded so husky, a pause as he cleared his throat. “Stop...you can’t, you...”

 

And Ronon thrust, a half push of hips, just getting into place, not...not quite. But John’s hand was on his shoulder.

 

“Stop. Don’t. You can’t Ronon.”

 

Ronon could barely focus, he was so close, so damn close and Rodney was panting, moaning, rolling his hips, ass back, into, against...

 

“Stop!” Sudden command.

 

Blink. Frown. Trying to think through lust, haze, hand on his shoulder.

 

“Ronon you can’t.” John’s voice soft but steel.

 

He groaned, panted against Rodney’s nape.

 

“What! What? Why are you...why aren’t you...” Demanding.

 

“Rodney trust me.” John’s most reasonable, even voice. “This isn’t the right time for this.”

 

“But, but who said you were referee...” Mouth opening for a tirade.

 

“Rodney just trust me. Please. Just this once.” John quietly pleaded.

 

Silence. Ronon’s head thumped into Rodney’s skin.

 

“He’s right.” Muttering into flesh, making Rodney shiver, hips roll and he couldn’t stop the rough buck, pinning Rodney’s hips back down. Breathless moan.

 

“Seven years Rodney. And if I’m right you’ve never done that before. He...and I’m not insulting you here Ronon, but your control isn’t up to it.”

 

“He’s right.”  So quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Rodney. “Want to fuck you. Just sink in and...” Hoarse moan.

 

“And you can.” Soft, still stroking. “You can. Just not Rodney tonight.” John offered.

 

Nodding, forehead slick with sweat from controlling, holding on, stopping himself from rocking, rolling forward, thrusting himself into...would just take an inch back, quick push forward...

 

“Ronon.” John’s hand getting tighter. “Get up. Now. Fuck me. I’ll let you fuck me instead. You have to let Rodney up now.”

 

“And what am I doing during all this then? Should I get dressed and be on my merry little way?” Rodney was blushing, still hard but hurt and confused.

 

Ronon was getting up, moving up and out of the way. Off the bed. John stood, watching as Rodney rolled over, got to his knees, glaring. John swallowed hard.

 

“Stay right there or lay on your back.” Licking his bottom lip. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

Flushing red, cock jolting, pressing up against his own skin, then Ronon was kissing him, holding on like John was life. Hard, fast, almost biting then really biting, taking John’s lower lip into his mouth. To suck, nip, make him moan. Grabbing his ass. Groping, holding, pulling him in close, tight. Then pushing, whole body turning, angling towards the bed while Rodney...gasping, staring, trying not to touch his cock, but who was he kidding. This was hot. Just a few strokes, moaning, watching Ronon push John down.

 

Then a sudden stop. John panting.

 

“Wait. Wait. Let me.” And John was twisting, rolling suddenly to his knees and Ronon...groan, growl, moan, transferred his attack to John’s ass instead.

 

Pushing in, holding, splitting him apart. Tongue darting, licking, probe. Anything to make John bite his lip, eyes closed, breathing hitch on a moan. Till Ronon’s tongue breached, flicked deeper in and he couldn’t, just couldn’t, groaning, mewling, crying out loud and long. Held tight, unable to move between Ronon’s hands.

 

“Oh fuck...fuck...Rodney...now...come here...” Eyes still shut, head arching back.

 

Rodney’s was watching captivated, mouth dry, still stroking.

 

“Rodney!” A whine. “You’re taking too long.”

 

His eyes wide now, so dark, clear...

 

“Let him suck you.” Words breathing over slick skin. John bucked, Ronon held him still, bruises blossoming.

 

The lick was apologetic, then teased with a flicker of his tongue. John panted but found his balance, reached out to touch Rodney’s thigh.

 

“Come here. Please Rodney.”

 

Sharp gasp. Rodney couldn’t help but watch. One of Ronon’s long fingers sliding. He shuffled forward. Finger slick sliding, disappearing up inside John. Pushing, pressing, looking for, searching. Till John bucked, gasp, groaning, ramming himself back onto Ronon’s talented hand.

 

“Oh fuck! Yes...there, there...fuck!” Explosive.

 

Then there were two fingers inside him. Just stretching and it’d been so long, far, far too long because fuck...it was promising to be so damn good. Rocking forward, back to take a third and Ronon encouraged him, licked around the opening, teasing him, making him moan.

 

He forgot about Rodney for a moment until he heard the gasp, groan. The soft, ‘oh fuck’ above him. Opening his eyes he found cock, Rodney’s hand sliding, slow and sure, almost lazy, enjoying the show. Leaking tip, slick with...Gasp. Oh Fuck. Here, right now, Ronon was going to...Blunt, thick head. Slick, hot and so fucking...moan. Breaching, just inside, fucking huge. Groan.

 

Hand on his hip, holding him tightly, pulling him back onto...His own cock throbbing in sympathy. Knowing how hot, how tight, how very, very tight from years of not doing just this...Trying to relax, to just take it. Feel it slide in. Inches. Panting moan. Scraping against that spot inside, desperate gasping, so sensitive. Finally stopping, completely full.

 

He’d known, he knew, Ronon was big but this...this was...a deeper moan. Hands holding him tightly. Holding on, just barely holding onto his sanity, waiting for one signal and John knew. A single nod or a word and there’d be pounding, John was going to get grinding, sliding, shoving up inside. God, fuck, god, John could only groan, cock twitching. Masochist. Complete and total. Ronon made a desperate sound, half human and finally John’s head dropped, half a nod and...

 

“Fuck!” Groan. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck...” Moan. Hands scrambling.

 

The thrusts started. Deep and long. Hard and just how he loved it. Fucking loved this.

 

Slap of flesh. Slide of cock. Hips hard and fast and god damned...Hand in his hair, sliding, moving forward, stroking, making him lose focus, shift focus, notice Rodney’s cock again. So close and then his promise slammed back into focus. Make it good. Make it worth it for Rodney cause he was...oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! That was good!

 

Crying out, harsh and high. Pleasure pain. And cock, Rodney’s, he needed to, because he wasn’t going to last long. And Ronon certainly wasn’t going to.

 

Rodney was being helpful, shifting forward, moving as he opened wide, let Rodney take control. And he’d missed this. Thick heat so raw. Rodney moaning. Breathy sigh, rocking deeper as Ronon fucked him harder. Push, pull stroking and almost gagging. Ramming, rocking, breathless. Loving it.

 

Don’t gag, relax, but half scream and moan. Ronon’s pace getting faster, slamming right inside, right against that...Rodney bucking, begging, cock a weight along his tongue. Fingers soft, stroking contrast. Ronon’s fingers so fucking tight and strong. Hands bruising and he couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape. Couldn’t fuck...oh fuck...They were in control. Fuck, slick, sliding, rocking, hip snapping. He couldn’t...he had to...mouth open, cock throbbing, heat, slick, raw. Rodney’s moan. Ronon gripping, thrusting, hips pushing, hands pulling back. Caught between them. Couldn’t...caught...fuck, fuck, oh fucking...coming with a choked off moan.

 

A moment later Rodney was thrusting, spilling down his throat. Ronon ramming, bucking his orgasm home. And he was swallowing, limp between them, weak knead and weightless.

 

John couldn’t move. There were bruises. No doubts about that. Bruises on hips and thighs and groan, face planting into a pillow as they shifted him up the bed. Ronon draping over a shoulder from behind.

 

“Thank you.” So sincere.

 

Soft giggle. Laughter. John did not just giggle. Lieutenant Colonels did not giggle.

 

“Pleasures all mine I’m sure.” Laughing low. Definitely not giggling.

 

“Did you just giggle?” Rodney somewhere to his left, very close, almost touching but it was too much effort to look up and glare.

 

“Did not.” Grumbling exhausted.

 

A yawn.

 

“Did too.” Rodney was determined despite a yawn.

 

“Not.” Another yawn.

 

“Too.” But he sounded sleepy.

 

Ronon’s weight was easing, shifting to his right, draping John was just heat now.

 

The slap to his face made him frown, slit his eyes open. Only to see Rodney coming closer, lips soft. They barely missed his, catching the corner.

 

“Not.” John smiled.

 

And he could feel Rodney’s smile this time. That half quirk of lips.

 

“Too.”Another kiss, fully aligned this time.

 

Ronon’s arm was reaching out, stroking Rodney’s side, then resting there, content.

 

“Thank you.” The only word he offered again.

 

“Any time.”And this time it was Rodney’s turn to sound sincere.

 

John felt Ronon’s lips curving against his shoulder. There was a lot of girly snuggling going on. He could protest but decided if they didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t tell.

 

The End!


End file.
